


Happy Little Accident

by DyslexicSquirrel



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Steve Rogers, Explicit Sexual Content, Idiots in Love, M/M, Omega Steve Rogers, Porn with Feelings, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, accidental nudes, shameless overuse of pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25317547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicSquirrel/pseuds/DyslexicSquirrel
Summary: Steve hadn't meant to send Buckythatpicture... right?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 61
Kudos: 731
Collections: Smut Writing 101: Accidental Dick Pics and Nudes





	Happy Little Accident

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened. It's dumb and silly and somehow my porn grew feelings. _sigh_
> 
> Thanks to [moonythejedi394](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394) for beta reading! You're a doll. 
> 
> And, yes, the

“Shit.” Steve stared at his phone in mute horror, mouth hanging open, watching the little  _ delivered _ under the photo that was mocking him and — 

He threw his phone. 

Just chucked it in a random direction, not even caring when it landed somewhere with a  _ thump _ , and covered his face with his hands, groaning into his palms. This was bad. Epically bad. Nothing this bad had ever happened before, he thought, edging into hysteria, pacing his living room, hands gripping his hair, face set in a grimace. 

Logically, he knew worse things had happened,  _ did  _ happen, every day, but when you just accidentally text your best friend — a best friend you’ve had a crush on since forever, but were too chicken shit to tell him about it — a picture of your naked body, freaking out was completely appropriate. Expected even. 

“Oh, God,” he groaned, dropping down onto the couch, head hanging between his thighs, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Steve wasn’t even entirely sure how it had happened. He took some pictures of himself for references for one of his art classes because he didn’t always have time to go when the models were there for extra practice sessions. 

Working two part-time jobs and having a full class load didn’t leave much time for anything, really, he hadn’t even seen his best friend in weeks. They were both busy, Bucky trying to get his garage off the ground and him with, well, life, but they texted all the time. 

He’d  _ meant _ to send a meme, some stupid thing with a cat in it that reminded him of the half-feral tabby that adopted Bucky last year. He should have been paying more attention, probably, because he had freaking nude pictures of himself in his camera roll, but he was tired and just trying to get some caffeine in his system and a million other reasons that didn’t change the fact that Bucky Barnes was now in possession of a picture of Steve Rogers in his birthday suit. Just sitting there in his messages, ready to probably ruin their friendship. His  _ dick _ had been visible, for Christ’s sake. 

He heard his phone ping and glared in its general direction. As much as he couldn’t afford a new phone, he had kind of been hoping it was broken. It pinged again and again and Steve grabbed his mug off the coffee table and went to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. His upstairs neighbor would get mad at the noise, but he didn’t care. Plopping down on his bed, he picked up his laptop off the side table where it had been charging and started working on his English paper. 

Whatever fallout was coming, he didn’t want to deal with it now. 

  
  


* * *

The knock on his door was loud, a pounding that shook the walls of his crappy apartment. Bucky hated him living here, told him constantly that one day it was going to fall down around his ears. 

And speaking of Bucky, it was him at the door. Steve knew it on some instinctive level, down in his bones. He paused with his sandwich in his mouth, hoping if he was quiet enough Bucky would assume he wasn’t home and leave. 

“I know you’re in there, punk. Open the door.” 

Steve winced like Bucky had yelled the words, but his friend didn’t raise his voice any louder than he needed to to be heard through the door. 

Steve set his sandwich on the plate and turned to the door like he was facing the gallows. He had secretly hoped Bucky wouldn’t show up, but he should have known better. Had, really, but living in denial for a little while longer had been the only way he could focus on anything else besides this imminent implosion of his whole life. 

Sighing heavily, he pulled open the door to Bucky’s scowling face. He looked like he came straight from work, oil under his fingernails, hair scraped back in a messy bun, utility pants stained with something, one of the white tanks he normally wore under his work shirt stretched across his chest, and Steve swallowed. 

“Four hours, Steve.” 

His head popped up at the sound of Bucky’s voice, edged in a growl that made the hairs on his nape stand up — almost had him tipping his head back before he realized it was  _ Bucky _ , for fucks sake — and realized he’d been staring at Bucky’s hands, propped on his hips. Steve’s cheeks started to turn red, he could  _ feel  _ them heating up. 

“You ignored me for  _ four hours _ after sending me —” 

Bucky broke off, jaw shutting with an audible click, giving Steve a slow —  _ slow  _ — once over. Eyebrows halfway to his hairline when their eyes met again, he asked, “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, like that would do  _ anything _ , like Bucky hadn’t seen him without a shirt before. He wasn’t one of those O’s who was scandalized by nipples. And also, he reminded himself as if he could forget, like he hadn’t sent Bucky a picture of  _ his entire naked body _ . 

“I was studying,” he said lamely, like that explained anything at all, and the expression on Bucky’s face screamed how much of an idiot Steve had sounded like. 

“You might as well come in,” Steve said, reluctantly stepping back to give Bucky room to step through the door. “I’d rather not have this conversation in the hall.” 

The nosey old woman across the way probably already had a glass pressed to her door to listen to what was going on. 

“Looks more like you didn’t want to talk to me at all,” Bucky said, managing to sound chastising and hurt simultaneously. 

Steve didn’t correct his assumption because Bucky was right and, if nothing else, he’d never lied to his best friend (unless one of omission counted since he’d kept his crush a secret for about a decade) and wasn’t going to start now. He shut the door and leaned against it. Bucky’s face was set in a scowl, arms crossed, mirroring Steve’s earlier posture. 

“What the fuck, Stevie?” 

Bucky’s old childhood nickname for him had Steve covering his face and groaning, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Buck. It was an accident. I haven’t been sleeping much with midterms and —”

“Who was it for?”

“What?” Steve’s hands dropped to his side, brow creased in confusion when he lifted his eyes. He blinked at the way Bucky’s eyes were narrowed, the blue going more gray and stormy, how his jaw clenched. “Who was what for?” 

“The fuck do ya think?” 

His brain still wasn’t firing on on cylinders because it took him a second to connect the dots and when he did — 

“Oh. No, Buck — that’s not. It wasn’t for anybody. Jesus.” Steve pushed away from the door, pacing to the kitchen and back again. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“More embarrassing than showing me your bat and balls?” 

Steve glared over his shoulder, and, dammit, why did Bucky have to look so good? Or smell so good. He always did, but it seemed… more alluring at the moment. It made Steve scowl despite the hesitant relief trying to well up inside that Bucky was cracking jokes instead of telling Steve to lose his number and forget they knew each other, because Bucky was still being a bit of a dick.  _ Daring  _ Bucky to laugh at him, he jutted his chin. 

“I took ‘em for art class.” 

“You taking photography this semester?” Bucky asked, sounding sour, chin tucked into his chest, shoulder tense. 

The hell was wrong with him? Steve’s mouth pulled down in a frown. 

“No,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. “I haven’t been able to make it to campus when the models are there for extra sessions and I needed the practice so,” he trailed off, eyes trained on his toes. 

The toes of Bucky’s boots moved into his line of sight. “You work too hard.” 

Steve lifted his head, lips pursed. “If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black.” 

Bucky shrugged, expression shifting into something that made Steve nervous. It was suddenly harder to breathe. 

“You know,” Bucky started slowly, “if you needed a model, you could have just asked me.”

“What?” Steve’s voice went embarrassingly high and he cleared his throat. “You realize the models are, uh, you know.”

“Naked? Yeah, Stevie, I got that.” 

Bucky stepped closer as he spoke and somehow Steve ended up sitting on the arm of his secondhand couch, looking up at Bucky, who was leaning over him with his arm braced on the back of the couch beside Steve’s head. 

“Offer still stands.” 

“I don’t think that —” 

“Why’d you send me that picture, Steve?” 

“I already told you. It was an accident.” 

Bucky being so close was shorting out his brain. This was hardly the closest proximity they had ever been in, but between the picture fiasco and Bucky’s offer, this felt different. Bucky was everywhere, smelling like sweat and oil and whatever it was that immediately made Steve think  _ Bucky _ and  _ alpha  _ — warm and spicy and he fought the urge to bury his face in Bucky’s neck. It was already hard enough to control the way his body reacted. 

“Try again, slugger,” Bucky huffed, voice dipping lower. “I’ve known you forever. You’re not that careless. ‘specially not with something like that.” 

“I —” 

Steve had to stop because Bucky was right. He  _ wasn’t  _ that careless. Sure the hell not with nude photos of himself.  _ So, what the hell had happened? _ he thought a little wildly. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“Maybe not consciously.” Bucky regarded him, head tilted to the side. Strands of hair had come loose of the elastic holding the mass of dark waves back from his face, brushing his cheeks. “That’s what I been trying to figure out for the last few hours. Only thing I could come up with was that you either meant to send it to someone else, which you already said you didn’t, or you wanted me to see you like that and I got to tell you, Stevie, the thought of that being the case made trying to finish up at work a bitch when I wasn’t imagining breaking the nose of the nameless alpha you meant to send it to.” 

Steve felt his eyebrows climb and his blush came back full force. Still, he chided, “You can’t just punch random people,” out of habit, even though Bucky hadn’t punched anyone, he’d just been thinking about it and the person didn’t even  _ exist _ , when he wasn’t thinking about Steve. Naked. And having trouble working. 

Which made Steve think about the fact that he might have been thinking about Bucky when he took the pictures in the first place, but he thought about Bucky a lot anyway, when he was naked or otherwise, so it hadn’t been anything new. But did Bucky have a point?  _ Had  _ he done it subconsciously? Because it really wasn’t like him even when he was exhausted and stressed out — that wasn’t anything new. 

He was blinking at Bucky’s chest when the sound of his best friend’s laughter pulled him out of the swirling mess of his thoughts. God, Bucky laughing was still the best thing. He had thought so when he was a kid and he still felt the same, watching the way Bucky’s whole face light up with it and how his eyes crinkled at the corners. But there was one difference now, because they’d both grown up, and Steve wanted to see that look on Bucky’s face waking up next to him in the morning after they had done some very adult things together. 

“Now, who’s the pot and who’s the kettle?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Steve said before he lost his nerve, biting his lip anyway because he was still so scared he was going to lose Bucky. 

But Bucky had… liked his picture. Said it was hard to finish up at work and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. He had thought about Steve, naked, and got turned on. Steve knew what he looked like, he wasn’t blind, but part of him would always think of himself as that scrawny kid he used to be or worried that some might think he was too big for an omega, but... Maybe he had wanted to make sure Bucky didn’t still see him that way, too. 

“Maybe part of me did. Want you to see me like that.” 

_ You couldn’t have just asked him out like a normal person, could you, Rogers?  _ he thought, watching the way Bucky’s face shifted from surprise to something that made Steve shiver again, something almost calculating and predatory — a look Bucky had never turned on Steve before — lurking under the pleasure at the admission. 

Eyes half-lidded, he leaned in closer, forcing Steve to lean back to keep eye contact. 

“Yeah? Well, I saw it, Stevie,” Bucky closed the gap between their bodies even further, nostril flailing slightly as he breathed in deep, and Steve had to throw an arm out behind him to stop from sprawling on the couch, “and I’d like to see it again. In person. If you’ll let me.” 

Something vulnerable crept into Bucky’s voice at the end and Steve decided to put on his big boy pants and go for it. They had both made their feelings pretty clear at this point and Steve was tired of  _ wanting _ and  _ wondering _ . 

He fisted a hand in Bucky’s shirt and kissed him. The angle was bad and their teeth clicked together, but it took Bucky about two seconds to get past his shock and kiss Steve back, using a hand in Steve’s hair to tilt his head the way the alpha wanted it, and sliding his tongue in Steve’s mouth when he moaned.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Bucky said softly, a growl rumbling in his chest, pressing a kiss to the underside of Steve’s chin when his head fell back, sucking bruises into his neck, pulling an answering purr from Steve. “I knew you’d be beautiful like this.” 

Steve turned away, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He could  _ feel _ Bucky smirk against his skin, followed by the drag of his tongue over one of his scent glands. 

“Feeling shy, Stevie?” 

“Fuck you,” he said on instinct to the teasing tone, tucking his chin in to glare at the alpha. 

“I like it when you blush. Your skin gets all pink and pretty.” 

Bucky leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek, something he hadn’t done since they were kids and people started giving them weird looks for it. Steve hadn’t realized how much he missed it, how touch starved he had been, and returned the gesture. A little clumsy and overeager. 

Bucky laughed and pulled back, shushing Steve when he whined at the loss of the alpha’s skin against his. “Shhh, sweetheart. I’m not going nowhere.” He reached behind his head and fisted the back of his shirt, discarding it on the ground once it was stripped off. “Just makin’ us even.” 

The sound of Bucky’s voice alone had Steve closing his eyes, thinking of latenight phone calls, listening to the alpha’s soothing rumble when he couldn’t sleep. But this was so much better because he could smell Bucky and feel Bucky and Bucky, Bucky, Bucky —

— was flipping him face down over the arm of the couch. Steve glared over his shoulder, but Bucky wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were glued to Steve’s ass. 

“What the hell, jerk?” 

“There are a lot of things I love about you,” Bucky was saying, palms curving around his ass cheeks and squeezing, “but, goddamn, your ass is a work of art. It was hell trying not to get caught staring at it since the second I realized that I  _ wanted _ you.” 

Apparently, as Steve was finding out, he was a slut for his best friend. Pressing back into Bucky’s grip, Steve let his face drop into the cushion of his thrift store couch, fingers digging into worn fabric. He could feel the slick that had been gathering at his hole — that Bucky must have been able to  _ smell _ , oh God — start to slide down the inside of his thighs the more Bucky kneaded. 

“Buck,” he whined, spreading his legs, as desperate as he was horny. 

Didn’t know if he wanted to rut against the couch or beg for Bucky to fuck him already. 

Maybe both.

The alpha blanketed his back and brushed the hair away from his forehead. Bucky hadn’t stopped growling and the vibrations made him shiver, had more slick welling between his cheeks. 

“You got no idea, baby. No idea how often I thought about you, like this.”

“Probably about as much as I have,” Steve admitted with a breathless laugh, baring his neck to Bucky. 

The move was instinctive, omega submitting to alpha. He had always trusted Bucky more than anyone and knew Bucky wouldn’t do anything Steve didn’t want. 

“Can you do something for me, Stevie?” 

“Anything,” he said and he meant it. 

Bucky’s fingers pushed under the waistband of Steve’s sweats, caressing his hips. “Get yourself ready for me.”

“What?” He heard Bucky’s words, but they weren’t making sense. His brain had hung up an  _ out to lunch  _ sign. 

“I came here right after work. Didn’t exactly stop to wash my hands.” 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _

Steve had had sex before, but he hadn’t ever fingered himself while someone watched. And he hadn’t ever  _ seen _ Bucky’s dick, but might have glimpsed an outline once or twice, and stared more than he should have. There was no way he was taking it without prep, outside a heat, and that was without considering the alpha’s knot. 

The thought of which made him wetter than he had ever been in his life. He nodded. “Yeah. Yes.” 

Bucky straightened and pushed Steve’s sweats down. They pooled around his ankles and he kicked them aside, spreading his legs more. Bucky bit off a curse and crouched down, hands running down Steve’s thighs to grip his calves, putting him eye level with — Steve bit lip. 

“You look good enough to eat. Smell good enough, too.” Bucky followed those statements up with a swipe of his tongue at the slick on Steve’s left cheek. 

Steve muffled a moan in the couch. He wanted that so badly, but he wanted Bucky in him more. 

It wasn’t easy to reach behind himself like this, but if he pushed up on his elbow, Steve could make it work. His index finger slid in easy, like a hot knife through butter. Bucky groaned right along with him when he slid a second in, hands flexing against Steve’s legs. Steve was so turned on he barely waited before adding a third, then a fourth. 

“Look at you, sweetheart,” Bucky’s tongue licking around his fingers made him jolt. “You’re taking it so good. Can’t wait to see you stretched around my cock. ” 

“Buck, Jesus Christ,” he coughed out. 

“You need something?” 

Steve pulled his fingers free with an embarrassing squelch. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to god…”

“Always a mouthy punk,” Bucky grouched goodnaturedly and swatted Steve on the ass before he pushed to his feet. 

“Bite me,” Steve snapped, shooting daggers with his eyes. 

Bucky always brought out this side of him, the scrawny kid he used to be, getting into trouble he wasn’t big enough to back up. 

“Don’t tempt me. I already want to mark that pretty neck of yours. Let everyone know you’re mine.” 

The alpha’s eyes went stormy and Steve felt adrift at sea. Sex was one thing, even dating, but a mating bite? That was a declaration — a commitment. Steve felt himself soften. He wanted to say  _ Do it _ , but the words got stuck in his throat. 

Bucky didn’t break eye contact while he unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his jeans. His boots were flung into a corner. Steve got distracted by the trail of dark hair disappearing into the open fly of Bucky’s pants.

Bucky shoves the denim down his thighs, naked as Steve was besides his socks. Steve might have laughed at that, but all his focus was captured by the sight of Bucky’s cock, thick and full, heavy balls hanging beneath, the knot at the base already starting to swell. A bead of pre-come welled at the tip and he licked his lips thinking about taking it into his mouth. 

Steve didn’t look away until something landed on his coffee table. Steve blinked and glanced over. Bucky’s wallet lay open and when Steve brought lust hazed eyes back to the alpha standing behind him, he saw Bucky was in the middle of ripping open a condom. 

“You always carry one of those?” he asked, primly.

It was ridiculous since he was ass up over his couch with a naked man standing behind him, but Bucky had always been popular with everyone and Steve had met a few of the people he’d dated. He hadn’t expected Bucky to live in a damn nunnery (or whatever the Jewish equivalent was if there was one), pining for him. Still, he felt jealousy burn in his gut, something primal lurking deep inside baring its teeth. 

Bucky tossed Steve that look he had used to get himself out of everything from groundings to detention. “Hope springs eternal, baby. Always hoped I’d be lucky enough you’d give me the time of day.” 

“I didn’t think I had a chance in hell,” he muttered, finding the floral pattern on his couch suddenly fascinating. 

Bucky took hold of the back of his neck, gentle but still firm, and made Steve look up at him. 

“It was always you. Everyone else was just passing time.” 

Bucky kissed him like his life would end if he didn’t. His dick rested in the cleft of Steve’s ass and Steve shifted restlessly. Bucky pressed their foreheads together, rubbing at Steve’s kiss bitten lower lip with his thumb. 

“I know, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

No one else was able to make Steve feel this small and protected. He had never  _ wanted _ anyone to make him feel that way. Maybe Bucky had a point. The two of them together had always been the end game; they just hadn’t realized. 

Bucky pressed in slowly, not stopping until his pelvis was flush with Steve’s ass. “Fuck, you feel good.” 

“Nugh,” was all the answer he could manage. Steve couldn’t think of anything else to say and Bucky didn’t wait for him to. 

Bucky took him hard and it was exactly what Steve wanted. His arms collapsed and Bucky followed him down, suddenly hitting every sweet spot Steve had. Bucky was almost feral, growling nonstop, teeth clamped around the top of Steve’s shoulder, close to his gland. The sound of their skin slapping together was so loud, Steve was sure his neighbors could hear, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” burst past his lips every time Bucky snapped his hips, half-blown knot catching on his rim. 

Bucky unclenched his teeth, lapping at the mark that was sure to be a florid bruise the next day. Steve wanted the mark so badly he ached. 

“Sweetheart — fuck, Steve, you’re perfect,” Bucky praised in between kisses peppered across the nape of his neck. Working a hand between Steve and the couch, Bucky stroked his nipple. “Squeezing me so tight,”  _ thrust _ , “fucking tits that would make a Rabbi weep,”  _ thrust,  _ “smell like a snowstorm and fresh grass,”  _ thrust,  _ “and I never understood how.” 

The next thrust lifted Steve up on his toes, pleasure so sharp it hurt. He stuttered a moan, keening when Bucky stood, brutal pace slowing to a grind, and smoothed a hand down his back until he had a hold on Steve’s hip. The other hand spread Steve’s cheeks. 

“You’re dripping, baby. Haven’t even made you come yet and already a mess. Stretched so much,” a finger teased his hole, spreading his slick around, “you sure you’re gonna be able to take my knot?”

Steve Rogers has never backed down from a challenge in his life and he wasn’t starting. Bucky did have a point — not that Steve would ever tell him that. Plus, Steve had never let another alpha knot him before, but he wasn’t telling Bucky that either. 

Steve looked over his shoulder, said, “I’ll take whatever you got,” and clenched. 

“Son of a —” The alpha didn’t sound so confident now. Steve smirked and rocked his hips, fucking himself on Bucky’s cock when the alpha fell forward and curled around Steve again. Just because it felt so good. He purred and nuzzled Bucky’s hair. 

“Needy little thing,” Bucky said softly. 

Only Bucky would call Steve little. 

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“ _ Fuck _ no. Keep doing what you’re doing. Never stop.” 

Steve laughed. 

Bucky set a counter-motion, keeping his thrusts shallow, the knot getting harder and harder to pull out, until Bucky couldn’t anymore. They moved together, the pressure building inside Steve, hole clenching helplessly around Bucky, trying to milk his cock until Bucky spilled. 

Deeply in Steve, right where he should. 

Bucky closed one hand over Steve’s pec, the other around his dick, stroking Steve off. “Come on, baby. Come on. There you go.” Steve’s vision blacked out or maybe he closed his eyes, his nerve endings lighting up like fireworks. “Just like that — fuck.” 

Bucky tried to get deeper, his muscles locking up as he came, holding Steve to him like he thought Steve would try to leave.  _ Fuck that,  _ he thought, with the part of his brain that hadn’t melted. 

His back was stuck to Bucky’s chest with sweat and he was pretty sure there was jizz on the side of his couch now. Bucky was still breathing heavily, hand cupped protectively around Steve’s softening dick. 

“Hey, Buck?” 

“Hmm?” Bucky sounded as tired as Steve felt. 

“How long are we gonna be stuck like this?” 

Every alpha was different, after all. Or so he’d heard. 

“I dunno. Twenty, thirty minutes?” 

He sounded half-asleep. Goddamnit. Steve nudged Bucky with his elbow and the alpha grunted. 

“What?” 

“I’m not staying like this for half an hour,” Steve growled. 

“It won’t be that bad,” Bucky muttered. 

Steve huffed, mouth open to complain some more, but Bucky pulled Steve tighter against him and started nipping at Steve’s throat. 

Oh, that was nice. Steve’s eyes slid shut and his head lolled. Bucky smelled  _ so good _ . He always did and — “Hey, pal! Don’t try to distract me.” 

“It was working though.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Steve bitched, a pout settling on his lips. He felt Bucky go still and that was when he realized what  _ exactly _ he had just said. 

Bucky had thrown the L-word around earlier, but saying “I love that about you”  _ was not the same thing as confessing you were in love with your best friend you’d just slept with.  _ He was winning at life today, Jesus fucking Christ….

“Buck—”

“I love you, too, punk,” Bucky interrupted, like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“Really?” Steve tried to twist around, forgetting about the fact they were stuck together. 

Bucky whimpered softly and held him still, pressing a hand low on Steve’s abdomen. 

Steve winced, half because okay,  _ ow _ , and half in apology. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” He still sounded a bit strangled and Steve picked up the hand resting against his chest and kissed the back of it. “So, we’re really doing this?” 

Steve, resigned to wait, but trying not to grin like a big idiot, replied, “I guess so.” 

“I meant what I said, Stevie. It was always you.” Bucky laid a reverent kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Why didn’t you?” Bucky countered, absently rubbing circles on the skin about Steve’s groin. 

Steve was still holding Bucky’s hands, tracing the veins along the back, the scars and nicks. “I was scared I’d lose you.” 

“Never, punk.” They lapsed into silence, then Bucky piped up with, “And feel free to send me all the nudes.” 

Steve shoved his face in the couch cushion and groaned. Bucky’s laughter echoed around the room. 

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky eventually pesters Steve into moving in with him and then they have lots of sex and babies.


End file.
